


Because of the Shame

by severaance



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Transgender Morgan, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:05:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7516273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severaance/pseuds/severaance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek never wanted Spencer to see him like this - not now, not ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because of the Shame

**Author's Note:**

> "It is not the men in your life that matters, it is the life in your man." Mae West

Spencer slipped into Derek’s house early that morning, trying not to make a sound. Balancing a paper bag that held a sandwich and muffin for Derek, as well as a plastic CVS bag, in his hands, he tiptoed down the hall towards Derek’s bedroom. He winced when the door creaked as he pushed it open, worried he had woken Derek. He frowned, though, when he saw the bed was empty, the stained red sheets thrown back. He stepped inside and placed the paper bag down, then canvassed the room for any sign of his boyfriend. Once he saw the en suite bathroom door was ajar, he sighed softly and trekked over to bathroom.

Derek was curled into a ball in the corner, shirtless and in just his boxers. The bathroom mirror had a towel draped over it, and Spencer could hear Derek faintly crying. He bit his lip and looked down at the ground sadly before he sat down next to Derek. He sat with him in silence, keeping his hands busy in his lap as he picked at the plastic bag.

After a few moments, Derek’s head rose and he took a peek at the bag in Spencer’s hand. He asked faintly, “Did you get them?”

Spencer nodded wordlessly and pulled out the contents of the bag, a box of sanitary napkins. He placed them down in front of Derek, then tentatively touched his knee. He smiled, albeit a melancholic sight, when Derek didn't shy away from his touch. Besides that, though, Derek didn't respond, just staring at the box. Spencer noticed he was trembling slightly, and that new tears had formed in his eyes.

“Let's get you cleaned up, okay?” Spencer suggested, rubbing his thumb along Derek’s knee cap. He looked down to see Derek was sitting in a small pool of dark blood, and he winced when he saw the prominent stains at the front of his boxers.

Once again, Derek didn't say anything, but nodded nonetheless. Spencer helped him stand to his feet, holding Derek’s hand firmly. Derek refused to meet Spencer’s eyes though, opting to stare down at the ground or at the wall just past Spencer’s head. Spencer didn't dare let his sadness show on his face, but he felt the sting deep inside of him.

Rather than dwelling on the feeling of dread, Spencer reached over to the bathtub and began to adjust the water until it was warm enough that it was relaxing, but not hot enough to burn. He politely looked away as Derek silently stripped, and didn’t look back even as he said, “I’ll go wash these out,” gesturing to Derek’s boxers, “and get you a fresh pair while you get in the bath.”

He picked up the article of clothing and headed for the door, but Derek’s hand on his wrist stopped him. Spencer looked to Derek curiously, seeing his eyes were filled with shame and apprehension.

“Can you get me my swim shorts? I don't- I don't wanna see… Y’know.” Derek whispered embarrassedly. Spencer passed no judgement, though, and gave a nod and a soft, kind smile. He saw Derek weakly try to return it, but the action just seemed forced and uncharacteristic.

Leaving Derek’s underwear in the sink, Spencer stepped outside into the bedroom. There, he rummaged through Derek’s drawers until he found a loose fitting bathing suit, the fabric dark enough that it wouldn't be stained. He slipped back into the bathroom and gave Derek the shorts without a word or even a glance before he grabbed Derek’s boxers and shut the door behind him.

Downstairs, Spencer busied himself in the laundry room by rinsing out the blood in Derek’s boxers, watching as the muted red water swirled down the plastic sink. After he figured he had gotten as much as he could out with the cold water, he threw the article into the washing machine. He trekked back to the bedroom and began to strip the sheets, tossing them inside the machine as well. He applied the settings before he let the articles tumble around inside. He then set out a pair of clothes for Derek, and waited patiently in the bedroom, perched on the edge of the bed vigilantly.

Once the door to the bathroom creaked open, Spencer’s head perked up and he smiled softly at Derek, who was now approaching the bed. Derek dropped the fluffy towel he had draped over himself and discarded his swim shorts as well before making quick movements to get on his clothes - a set of comfortable and loose sweatpants, and a baggy shirt that concealed his slight bloating. He then slipped back into the bathroom, where Spencer heard the discreet sound of plastic crinkling. The toilet flushed and out stepped Derek, who immediately went towards the bed. He promptly curled up on his side, a quiet, pained moan escaping his lips.

Spencer geared into action and traveled quickly to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and three aspirin. He came back into the bedroom and handed them to Derek, along with the bag of food he had gotten before.

“Here,” he said, “for your cramps. I also got you something to eat. There's a chocolate muffin in there. I know you love those, and I figured you might be craving sugar.”

Derek nodded in agreement at that and took the aspirin quickly before he snatched the food out of the bag. He dug into the sandwich first, scarfing it down in a matter of minutes. He took his time with the muffin, though, picking off small pieces of the top to savor. Spencer smiled as he watched Derek moan softly each time he bit into a chocolate chip, even sharing a brief laugh with Derek when one bordered on obscene.

As Derek continued to eat, Spencer suggested, “Wanna watch something?” He took the TV remote in his hand and gestured to the flat screen mounted on the wall before the bed. Derek nodded his approval, face still stuffed with muffin. Spencer flicked on the TV and scrolled through some channels until settling on an old Charlie Chaplin movie; he knew Derek needed a good laugh, and Chaplin never failed to make him smile.

They watched most of the movie in silence, save for some chuckles and giggles here and there. After a while, Derek weaseled his way into Spencer’s arms, the entirety of the muffin now resting peacefully in his stomach. Spencer gladly pulled Derek into his lap and held him tightly to his chest. He pressed gentle kisses to Derek’s head here and there, his arm wound around Derek’s shoulders. He softly stroked the back of Derek’s neck with each kiss, and smiled each time Derek’s muscles visibly relaxed under the touch.

Some time later, though, Spencer noticed Derek had gone a bit stiff underneath him, and soon felt his shoulders begin to shake. He looked down to see that Derek’s eyes, red and puffy, were brimmed with tears. Several droplets slid down his cheeks silently as he forced back heavy sobs. Once Derek caught Spencer looking at him, he quickly wiped at his eyes and sniffled, choking down another sob.

“I’m sorry.” Derek croaked out, now looking sadly into Spencer’s eyes. Spencer frowned and shook his head, using his free hand to wipe away Derek’s tears.

“For what? You've done nothing wrong.” Spencer reassured, but Derek didn't seem convinced. He shook his head and looked away again, lips pressed together in an anxious line.

“For not being the man you need me to be,” Derek finally said in a broken tone, “and for making you have to see me this way.”

Once again Spencer shook his head in refusal before he leaned in to kiss away a stray tear that had began to travel down Derek’s flushed face. He affirmed softly, “You are always the man I need you to be, and you are always the man I want. Period.” Quickly, though, Spencer winced at his poor word choice. Derek laughed tearily at it, though, and Spencer cupped his face and smiled.

“I kinda love you, kid.” Derek confessed sheepishly. Spencer grinned wider at Derek and leaned in to place his forehead against Derek’s. He sweetly kissed the tip of Derek’s nose, keeping his eyes shut as he reveled in the closeness he shared with Derek.

“Love you.” Spencer whispered back. And although he knew it wasn't enough to fix everything, it sure as hell made it that much more bearable.

**Author's Note:**

> "My body is a political battlefield.  
> It is a place of war, of death and suffering, of triumph and victory, of damage and repair, of blood and tears and sweat.  
> It is a place where memories go to find purpose for their existence.  
> It is a place where humans cast all inhibitions aside to discover what exists at their very core.  
> It is a place of growth wearing a mask of destruction.  
> It is a challenge, not for the faint of heart, beckoning us to face it with eyes wide open. 
> 
> The only war is within. When you are ready to fight it, the field awaits." Agnostic Zetetic


End file.
